


Delta

by bishorn



Series: Omega [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Peter Hale, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Boypussy, Breeding, Consent Issues, Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Knotting, Lactation Kink, M/M, Male Lactation, Mpreg, Omega Stiles Stilinski, Oral Knotting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-15
Updated: 2014-07-15
Packaged: 2018-02-08 19:17:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1952943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bishorn/pseuds/bishorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's been a lot of change in his life recently: An Alpha, a new pack, a growing family. There's an initial and a final, and Stiles doesn't let himself think about the old anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Delta

Stiles opened his eyes reluctantly against the unfamiliar sheets under him and the soft downy blanket over him. He wiggled his fingers and counted ten. They curled as he sighed and picked himself up, wincing slightly; his pussy was ridiculously sore, and it felt like he still had a knot inside him, plugging him up. It tightened around nothing as he remembered last night, flushing and feeling the hatred well up inside him.

He looked around. It was definitely not his room or any he knew, but maybe in Derek upscaled to a larger, less black apartment. It was the only hope he could cling onto as the bile rose in his throat.

He rifled through the wooden drawers on either side of the large bed. His clothes, and someone else's set, were folded neatly in them but he tossed them out, looking for his red hoodie. His fingers desperately searched in the pockets, but didn’t find the wolfsbane he had hidden. He growled in frustration, tossing the jacket across the room.

Taking a few moments to calm himself, he considered his options before padding out, ignoring the way his lower regions complained at the movement, and found the stairs. There was the soft sizzle and scent of cooking food from the left and Stiles followed it. 

Peter was looking domestically out of place in front of the stove and with a frilly apron on. He said pleasantly, without looking at him. "I heard you get up."

Stiles clenched his jaw. "What do you want?"

"Nothing I don't already have.” Peter turned around and tossed some bacon onto a plate. “Well, maybe a pool for the backyard but I'm not quite sure yet. I was going to wait for your input."

Stiles ignored him. "What'd you do to them?"

"Nothing for your pretty omega brain to worry about.” He paused. “I will let you know that not all of your old pack is dead yet, and what you do may influence their survival."

"What about your family?" Stiles insisted, swallowing the lump in his throat. "What about Malia?" 

"She never was my family. All I have is the word of a banshee who would wear my intestines as a fashion statement if given the chance.” Peter looked amused as he picked up a fork and poked his bacon into neat rows. He looked up pointedly. “And, besides, I have a new chance at starting a family now. Now that the hunters are gone, I’ve got the power of an Alpha, and a cute little teenage omega with the nicest tight pussy."

Stiles instinctively covered his belly and turned away his body, flushing at the description.

"Why so shy now? You were so enthusiastic last night, promising me litters of little pups. It's such a shame you weren't in heat." Peter had the decency to look regretful. 

Stiles snarled, "I am going to fucking kill you. I'll murder you in your sleep. Don't for a second think you can drop your guard around me."

"You're acting like a little pup who hasn't grown into his teeth yet. Don't bare them around if you don't have the bite to follow it." Peter frowned and flashed his red eyes, causing Stiles to cower in submission at both his pack and claiming Alpha. He took a step back in surprise.

His heart beat wildly as he felt the panic rise. His palms were moistening, and he’s struggling for breath and oh fuck, _oh fuck,_ he’s screwed things up. He tries taking a few steps back but his legs collapse under him and he’s gasping for air. He’s going to suffocate, and he’s going to die right here on god-fucking-damned Peter’s floor because of a fucking panic attack. 

He hears the raspy sound of his own breath, and then he’s hearing Peter’s soft voice in his ear, “Hey, hey sweetie. I’ve got you.”

“I’m sorry, Alpha,” he croaks out. “Alpha.”

Peter wraps his arms around him, and Stiles instinctively leans into the touch. His vision’s blurry, and it’s not until his fingers reach Peter’s wet shirt that he realizes he’s crying and sobbing. He pushes Peter weakly away and Peter complies but holds his hand in a quiet comfort. An arm reaches around him, and he stiffens, but relaxes into the delicate, gentle touch, letting it pull him into Peter’s lap. He digs his nose into Peter’s neck, feeling the comfort of Alpha.

His hot tears smear over Peter’s skin, and he’s using his shirt as a tissue, but it calms him, and he let’s Peter pepper soft kisses to the top of his head as he’s curled into his lap, hating himself, and hating Peter.

\--

Peter didn't try anything sexual in the first week, putting Stiles on edge. He’s expecting to be fucked into oblivion for the mess he was in on that first day. But, he didn’t insist on fucking Stiles every night and treating him like a sex slave like some Alphas were still prone to; instead he let Stiles do whatever he wanted, even if it was moping around all day and refusing to eat anything.

By the second week, however, he could tell Peter was getting annoyed, and continued out of spite. Peter let it go until the fourth.

They were in bed, the one time of the day where Stiles allowed Peter to stay next to him long enough for them to have a conversation. The first few nights, Stiles curled up on the floor, but woke up under the sheets to find Peter on the floor. It took a couple of weeks, but eventually, he took pity on Peter and crawled into bed next to him at night, digging himself into the blankets and refusing to react to Peter’s good-night kiss. He always woke up in Peter’s arms, and hated himself for enjoying the warmth.

"It's already been a month," Peter frowned as he kissed the claiming bite at the base of Stiles's neck. "When are you going to stop throwing this little temper tantrum? You’re hurting yourself."

Stiles didn’t answer him and rolled over. 

“I’m worried about you.“ Peter pulled him tighter. There’s a few moments of quiet as he scents Stiles. He spoke softly into his ear, “You know they say that Alpha semen is ridiculously nutritious for pregnant omegas. I know you’re starving and your body needs it.”

Stiles stiffened and tried to squirm out of Peter’s grasp, but he tightened his grip and rubbed his nose in Stiles’s skin, bringing them closer together. Stiles forced out, “You don’t even know that I’m pregnant yet. Don’t go wasting your precious semen on me.”

“This close, I can taste it on your skin,” Peter licked at a strip on Stiles’s neck. “You can deny it all you want, but I know you've been throwing up every morning. I’m actually surprised you have anything left in you to throw up.”

Stiles still didn’t move even as he felt the hard length behind him.

“Even if you hate me, the little cub inside of you hasn’t done anything to hurt you. You’re already so weak and I wouldn’t have brought it up if I thought there was another way. I don’t want to hurt you, and I know you don’t like losing control, so either you can do this willingly, or I can force you to. It’s really for your own good,” Peter said into Stiles’s neck, as his hands stroked just under Stiles’s belly, where the fetus must have been growing. Stiles flushed at the soft touches, overwhelmed by the protectiveness he was feeling from Peter for their child.

Peter tugged back their sheets and Stiles shivered at the sudden change in temperature, instinctively scooting back to Peter's warmth. It pressed the hot dick closer and he could feel it burning at his back. Stiles turned around hesitantly, and Peter kissed his lower lip in encouragement. 

His hands trembled as he pulled down Peter’s boxers, letting the dick spring up. Peter rolled so he was flat on his back and Stiles settled between his legs. Peter felt his knot thicken slightly from the look of Stiles chewing his cocksucker lips till they were red and wet. The boy looked up through his lashes, pleading silently for a way to get out of this. Peter nodded reassuringly and Stiles reluctantly lowered his head.

He suckled on the tip of the cock and felt the muscle thicken at the base under his fingertips. It was horrible, a disgusting parody of how affectionate he felt last time. 

Peter pushed his head gently down. Stiles obediently bobbed his head, feeling the way it hit the back of his throat and hating how wet it made him. He was sure Peter could smell the slick sliding from him but the older man didn't make any humiliating remark about it, instead, carding through his hair in a way that made Stiles keen. 

The knot was growing steadily bigger. Stiles made a move to pull off the knot and focus on the tip of the dick, but suddenly, he felt a hard push at the back of his head forcing him lower. Peter tilted his hips up as he lowered Stiles's head until he could feel the lips against his crotch. Stiles's throat was hot and tight, spasming around his cock erratically, squeezing it with unpredictable pressure and Peter almost came on the spot. As Stiles's breath evened out, so did his throat.

Even soft, Peter had a thick cock that Stiles had to stretch his lips to get around. With the knot, it was even worse, pushing against his tongue and bulging his cheeks out. He's never seen an Alpha knot in person, but he wants to now, because it's stretching his mouth impossibly. He can feel the entire thing inside of him, and how it’s stretching all the way down his throat. His aching lips are kissing at the skin around Peter’s cock, and the strong scent of Alpha is making him moan desperately despite the discomfort..

Peter fingered his lips, stretched and strained obscenely around the knot and Stiles whimpers. It's a wonderful feeling of taut tightness around his dick that’s amplified by the vibration. He moves his hand, following his dick, to feel his knot through the bulging cheek and runs his hand down Stiles's long neck, feeling the thickness of his cock. He admires the view of it, an added thickness to Stiles’s lean neck that goes all the way down his throat. He squeezes it slightly and strokes, causing Stiles to tighten it involuntarily and it's the last bit he needs to start coming. 

Despite how far Peter is reaching down his throat, Stiles had to swallow to keep up with the steady stream of cum, feeling the hot liquid slide down and pool inside him. It feels like it takes forever for it to stop and he's feeling impossibly full. Peter bucks a little at the ripple of muscle as Stiles’s swallows, and grunts as it milks out more. “Fuck, I knew your mouth would be good.”

Stiles looks up through his lashes at Peter, who's looking uncharacteristically blissed out. Peter gives a lazy smile before sitting further up, inadvertently pushing the knot in deeper judging by Stiles’s gag and the press of lips against his skin, and strokes at Stiles's pussy. Stiles jerks at the touch and Peter looks pleased as hell that his finger is soaking in juice..

Stiles cries around the finger plunging into him, gently fucking him. It relieves some of the pressure but spurs on the need in him. They've still got a while before Stiles untie from Peter. He fucks himself on the finger behind him, which makes the fat dick in his mouth fuck his throat. His breaths grow higher and faster as he gets closer to climax.

It just takes a simple finger rub at his clit for him to tighten uncontrollably around everything inside of him. He collapses between Peter’s legs, wincing slightly as the dick presses against his throat in protest. 

Peter pats his head patronizingly and gives a wry smile at Stiles’s glare. “We’ve still got ten minutes to go. Fuck yourself on your fingers if you want to come again.”

Stiles pauses for a moment before gingerly moves his hands and groans as his head is only supported by the knot. The sounds turn into keens as he fingers himself and humps the blankets to get pressure on his clit. With his hands reaching behind to finger himself, half his weight is on his knot and the other half is his clit. His entire is mouth is flat against Peter’s skin, and Peter can feel his hard push of his teeth behind it. His hips shake uncontrollably and he starts to sob as he gets closer to climax. Peter feels one last spurt of come from him as Stiles’s comes with a high whine.

By the time they can untie, Stiles's jaw is aching painfully and his pussy is desperate for a good fucking. His fingers may have been enough to bring him off, but his pussy knows it needs a good Alpha knot. Peter mourns the loss of the satisfying heat as Stiles’s slides off but kisses his cheek gently. "You did so well, sweetie. How are you holding up?"

Stiles jerks his head away, refusing to answer and trying to calm his breathing. There's a wet spot under him and he can't get the energy to roll away, and anyway, his pussy is still painfully leaking and it won't make too much of a difference; anywhere he moves will be soaking in seconds.

Peter crawls over the boy and flips him over so he's lying on his back. Peter strokes his own dick up till it's hard again and inches frustratingly slowly into Stiles's pussy, causing the omega to moan desperately and push down trying to force it in. Peter pushes it in sharply at the hoarse sound.

When Peter is finally completely sheathed in the pussy, he thrusts slowly and deeply. Stiles can't help the broken high whines escape. He lifts his hips for better access and wraps his legs around Peter's waist. 

It's soft and gentle, the way Peter suckled at his neck, and Stiles wants to scream. He hates Peter but he can't believe the werewolf can be this gentle and this loving. He claws at Peter's back, feeling the raise edge from his fingernails sink back down with his healing ability. 

Stiles is crying and sobbing as Peter knots him again, hiccuping as the knot keeps their hips together. He holds Peter so tight, not wanting to be alone and needing the touch of his Alpha. Peter notices his distress and kisses him deeply, letting their tongues slide by each other. Stiles squeezes his eyes shut and won’t open them again.

They stay wrapped up in each other long after the knot disappears. 

\--

He’s ballooned in the past few months and he hated Peter. He hated Peter because he’s acting the part of the perfect Alpha, the doting father figure who sings their baby to sleep, who makes late night runs to retrieve cravings, who lets the omega sob and cry when hormonal changes are too much. Stiles hated Peter for seducing him again and then not doing anything about it.

Baby Tony was born in November, a baby Alpha boy. It’s too early to tell whether he’s a werewolf, that’ll wait until he’s six or seven.

When Peter still acted like the perfect father, Stiles wanted to unveil to everyone what an asshole and how evil Peter Hale really is. But he couldn’t, because he’s starting to believe that maybe Peter was a good man, who’s had terrible things done to him and having a family centers him and makes him good again. And it hurt because he doesn’t know what’s true anymore.

Stiles met the pack for the second time when Peter brings them around to let them scent the newest member of the pack. Stiles is fond of Alex, who reminds him of Scott. He's pretty sure it's just a superficial resemblance but he likes the simple goofy smile on his face. 

He doesn't think about his old pack too much. It hurts too much and it confuses all his emotions up. They're gone, and he can't leave Peter, especially now that they have a child and a pack together. It's no use wondering what they're doing anyway. Sometimes, though, he'll notice that he's checking the news to find any indication of the youngest Fields Medal recipient, Lydia Martin; but the lack of information terrifies him so he doesn't delve too deeply into it. 

He doesn't think any of Peter's would believe him if he told them about what Peter has done, judging by the way they look at Peter with a reverence. Stiles pushed the thought to the back of his mind because he doesn’t want to ruin this perfect illusion and he isn’t sure what he’d do if Peter drops the charade.

Instead, he handed over the baby to Alex who coos at him delightedly and settled against Peter's chest to fall asleep.

\--

April rolls around and so does spring. He can feel the way his toes curl every time Peter touches him and he knows his heats are nearing. It's not full blown yet, but when Peter kisses him chastely on the lips or cheek, it leaves him wet and panting. It’s humiliating, especially since it’s spring break and the entire pack hoots at Stiles’s omega scent.

Heat hits him suddenly as April ends. He’s alone at home for once; Peter’s taken Tony and the pack out.

He slowly wakes to the way his toes curl as he becomes sensitive to the soft fabric of their sheets. His pussy is leaking painfully and he can feel the warmth and slide in his panties. His nipples are streaming milk, dampening the front of his shirt.

On the bright side, he notices bitterly, he's just had a child so his heat will probably be shorter than the one week average, maybe just a couple of days. Peter probably won't even take the long to take him pregnant again. On the downside though, he's home alone with their baby and no toys to occupy him until his Alpha comes back.

His back arches as a sudden wave of pure need overwhelms him. It starts as a fiery pain in his pussy, and every movement, every breath, making something rub against the sheets so tauntingly. He’s writhing between them uncontrollably. Stiles steadies himself long enough to move his panties out of the way and shove a finger in. It quells some of the heat, but it isn’t long before it starts up again, more desperate than before. 

“Alpha,” he moans out uselessly. His fingers are too short, he can’t get it in at the right angle to make it good, and he’s sobbing into the pillow. His hand is covered in fluid but it’s not helping. He pulls away from himself to grab the pillow and shove it between his legs. His hips roll desperately, burning pressure on his clit and pussy lips, it’s just not fucking enough to make him cum.

He’s never had a heat this intense and he’s about to go crazy when he feels hot, warm hands on his ass.

He whips around to find his savior, scenting the wonderful musk of Alpha around him, making the two of them tumble to the ground. He latches on to Peter, fumbling with the buttons on Peter’s shirt and trying to tug off his pants while bucking his pussy up against Peter’s jeans. The rough texture creates wonderful friction bring out moans until he can’t focus on anything except riding Peter. He wraps his legs around Peter’s thigh letting the pleasure wash over him until -- _oh, ohh_ \-- he clenches Peter’s shirt as he comes hard.

His body stills before he collapses in a slump. He feels a gentle kiss on his forehead, “You’re so cute, love. Don’t begin with out me next time, though.”

Stiles grumbles but felt the heat begin to build up again. Peter cards a hand through Stiles’s hair and rubs his nose against his ear. Stiles gives a breathy moan and lets the hand on his clit be the only thing in the world. “You’ve gotten our bed and our floor so messy and wet. It’s absolutely filthy. You’ll have to clean it later.” 

Stiles bucks up. Peter pinches his nipple. He massages it from the base of his swollen breast. It’s not as round as a female’s, but it’s distinctly bloated with milk. He presses it up and Stiles huffs at the way it’s pooling just behind the nipple. Peter’s holding it there, and it feels so full that Stiles is about to burst. With a little tug of the nipple with his other hand, the milk comes spewing out, covering both of them with the white liquid.

“We can’t let that go to waste, can we?” Peter asks softly as he starts tugging at the other nipple. “Lick it up, clean up your mess.”

Stiles immediately complies. He gets on all fours and bends down to suck up the milk that’s spreading across their floor. He flattens his tongue against the hardwood and licks up the warm, sweet milk. It makes him drip onto the floor, knowing it came from him. As he’s working, Peter rolls his fingers over the other nipple.

“I can’t let any more of this precious milk go to waste, can I?” Stiles’s can feel the milk trickling out. Peter pushes him onto his back, and Stiles shivers delightedly at the coldness of the floor and the warmth of his spilled milk.

Peter covers his swollen nipple with his mouth but doesn’t suckle or bite down. He uses his tongue and flicks at the sensitive tip and swirls it around over it. He plants a rough kiss on it, and Stiles’s feels the pressure build up behind it, milk waiting to be released. 

“Please,” Stiles begs. He’s all splayed out and completely at Peter’s mercy, but his Alpha won’t give him this one relief. 

Peter massages it some more, taking care to make sure no more than a few drops leak out, until Stiles feels lopsided at the pressure and makes sure Peter knows with his keens. Peter puts his mouth over it one more time, and this time milk comes pouring.

Peter pulls away quickly, not more than a couple mouthfuls, but Stiles’s can’t stop the milk. He’s covered in it by the time the pressure is totally relieved and he pants and wiggles his hips around in the pool under him, feeling the pain in his pussy come back again despite the interlude. Peter looks at him amusedly as he sheds his soaked jeans and shirt. 

“Maybe I should keep you like this. I won’t fuck you until the end of the week, and in the meantime you can be my little cow. Give me all the milk I can take, and writhing in your own filth by the time I’m done.” Peter slides his dick slowly up Stiles’s clit. “I wonder how much of this you can take. I wonder what you’ll offer to do by the end of this week.”

“You know I’ll do anything for you anyway,” Stiles breathes out in a high whine as Peter drags his dick back up his pussy. The head tugs at the rim slightly and Stiles groans at the tease.

Peter pulls back the hood of the clit and presses a knuckle down on the nerves. Stiles’s muscles tighten and he’s struggling to keep his legs apart. Keeping it there, Peter’s other hand wanders down to the wet pussy lips. He palms it, rolling the heel of his palm and changing direction and force. Stiles’s is bucking between the two sensations, hands grasping at the floor for some purchase. Just as he’s about to come again, Peter pulls back. He holds his hand out to Stiles who obediently licks up all of his slick, running his tongue up the slick palm. 

Peter crawls forward, over Stiles, and puts their mouths together. His reaches his tongue into Stiles’s open mouth and explores as far as he can go. His dick is against Stiles’s pussy but doesn’t enter yet and smiles into Stiles’s mouth when Stiles gives a small whine in complain.

He lines them up carefully, and goes in slowly, feeling the ring of muscle expand to fit him. He pushes himself in excruciatingly slowly until he can feel Stiles’s cervix at his head and Stiles is arching his back and squeezing Peter close.

Peter doesn’t move, so he rocks softly on the dick inside him as he digs his face at Peter's neck. Peter pulls back and hammers into Stiles's pussy twice, eliciting sharp shallow moans before gently sliding in and out. His knot is already starting to catch on the rim and Stiles's muscles are trying to hold onto him and trying to keep him in. Stiles tugs him tighter, never wanting to let go. Peter quells the desperation of heat and he fits inside of him so perfectly. 

Peter alternates between slow steady strokes and brisk thrusts until his knot won't tug back out. He tries though, pulling groans from Stiles's throat. He nuzzles it, licking at the neck.

He rocks his hips and admires Stiles's extra sensitivity to his growing knot from heat. Stiles is writhing on it and Stiles comes with a cry as he looks down at the way his pussy lips are straining against the thick knot caught between them.

With a final rough stroke that pulls at the lips, Peter comes and the tight wetness of Stiles's heat pussy milks him. He feels the come ripple out of his dick. He's locked in too tightly for it to go anywhere, really, so it surges in and Peter knows Stiles’s eggs are being fertilized..

Partly because of how his body is reacting to the fertile heat-desperate omega under him but it takes a few minutes longer than usual for his dick to stop spewing come. Stiles is locked on him tight, with a bulging belly to accompany the come inside him that makes him look a couple months pregnant.

Peter rolls them over so he's spooning his omega. Peter can’t help but rub his hands over the round lower belly and his omega grinds down happily. He turns and captures his Alpha in a kiss and flushes when Peter notices the beads of milk leaking from his tits. 

Stiles smiles contently to himself as he settles down with his Alpha.


End file.
